


I've Never Seen Your Face

by mintbearjr



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, a lot of other characters are mentioned but they never show up at all so, not gonna tag any of them, takes place after season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:24:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintbearjr/pseuds/mintbearjr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tucker had never seen Wash's face before, let alone seen him out of armour. He'd be damned if that didn't change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Never Seen Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> I've never posted any of my previous works online before and although this isn't really the best thing ever, it's some of the best I've written in a long time. ouo I hope I did Tucker and Wash some justice and I hope you all enjoy it! <3

Tucker hadn’t seen Wash out of armour before. For some reason, the guy always felt as if he was going to be shot at, every second of the day. If Tucker didn’t know better, he’d say Wash slept in his armour, too, but a pile of blue and yellow metal scattering the floor of the blue base at crash site bravo had shown Tucker otherwise.

Tucker just never saw Wash himself out of full armour and it bothered him.

From their time on Chorus, the two had become admittedly close friends. Despite their previous disagreements in the beginning, Tucker had gotten along better with Wash than he ever did Church. It was nice to have a friend again. However… fuck, dude, Tucker had seen all of the reds out of armour within a week of knowing all of them and they were enemies back then!

Now, for the time after the battle, after everyone had finally moved to the capital, Wash and Tucker even ended up sharing a fucking room! (Now, the people of Chorus were nice enough to give the Reds and Blues their own quarters at all; a bunch of them roomed together to use up as little space as possible, because they didn’t need the rooms as much as others might have. Why take up more room than necessary?) The two were basically roommates and Tucker knew Wash’s schedule by heart.

Wash would wake up at sunrise (7AM), don his armour, go for a morning run, eat breakfast, do some of his exercise drills, take a shower, and then go wake up Tucker at around 10AM. Wash would leave his armour, helmet on all day long. When both he and Tucker took the cadets out to run drills before lunch, Tucker would sometimes go change into something that was totally uncomfortable like his armour, but Wash would be totally unfazed. Wash would be with Doyle, Kimball, Carolina and Epsilon, Grey, some other doctor, or even sometimes Sarge whenever Tucker was eating lunch and dinner, so they’d always miss each other. At night, Tucker would pass out in his own bed before Wash would even come back.

That helmet never came off of Washington.

Dammit! Why did it piss him off so much!? He just wanted to see his friend’s fucking face for once! Was that so much to ask!? Wash saw Tucker’s face all the time! It wasn’t fucking fair!

He decided it was time to tell Wash about this.

It was late one day; Chorus’ sun had yet to set, but the red giant was so close to nearing the horizon that all knew that sunset was coming within mere minutes. Tucker planned to find and talk to Wash; he wasn’t gonna fall asleep easily again (he drank some of Grey’s herbal tea, which she said would keep him up) and Wash wouldn’t be able to get out of this if Lavernius Tucker had anything to say about it!

He found Wash at the communications building.

Doyle and Kimball both now had proper offices and meeting halls in this building and all plans were made within its walls. Doyle had recently trusted Wash as his new advisor after seeing Kimball had already trusted Tucker as her own; the two had to attend all meetings with their two leaders and hopefully keep the two from saying anything they’d regret. Carolina and Epsilon remained neutral from both parties and tried to help both leaders make the best possible decisions for everyone.

Wash was exactly where Tucker first thought to look; the roof of the building. He was sitting by the edge, just listening to the city below and waiting for the sky to be painted by the many colours of the setting sun. However, he stayed far enough from the edge so as to not remind himself how high up he was; Tucker then remembered Wash’s fear of heights, or more specifically, cliffs. He also remembered that Wash stared at the sky a lot; the sunrise was probably the reason Wash woke up so early, too.

At the sound of the door opening and footsteps padding against the ground, Wash turned his head, still covered by that fucking helmet, and glanced back at Tucker, his body clearly showing how much calmer he became when he realized who had shown up.

“Oh, hello, Tucker,” he had spoken and, although Wash had said it with such a genuinely happy tone in his voice, seeing his own face reflected back in the helmet visor made Tucker immediately angry. Tucker’s fists clenched briefly.

“Wash, can I talk to you about something?”

“Yes, of course. What is it?” Wash asked, clearly sounding a little concerned. Hearing that genuine concern and that usual calming tone, Tucker felt less angry and a lot more content, as he sat down next to Wash on the roof, looking forward at the sky.

Tucker took a deep, steady breath and continued to gather his thoughts together before he spoke again. Wash simply remained quiet and waited for the other to continue.

“Why is it that you’re never out of armour..?” He began, slowly, and let out a shaky breath after he realized the question passed his lips, anxious feelings letting themselves out of his system as the short time passed. Tucker’s knees were pulled up to his chest and his right hand rubbed against the peach fuzz on his head that was a full blown mane of hair about two weeks ago. Wash sat on Tucker’s left side and the younger man was looking everywhere other than at the former freelancer.

“What kind of question is that?” Great, he sounded offended. Nice job, Tuck, real smooth.

“Look, Wash, I get it. We’re at war and you’ve been through some serious shit; we all have at this point!” Tucker argued, just staring off at the sky in front of them and not towards Wash. “But even Carolina said we don’t have to be in armour at all times! It’s safe to unwind sometimes, man…”

“What if something does happen? Like, there’s a bombing? Or a shootout? Or we’re-” Wash was starting to go off on a tangent, so Tucker cut him off, now looking right into where he thought Wash’s eyes would be behind that stupid helmet’s visor.

“Dude, I’ve never seen your face before…” As the words left Tucker’s mouth, he felt… strange… There was an odd feeling in his stomach and he felt like he was overheating for a second. The feeling left when he looked down at the floor below him.

Wash completely stilled and Tucker felt as if his tongue had just dried out.

“Y-you know what?” Tucker stuttered out, suddenly very nervous and scared of how Wash might react. “I’m just gonna go. You can just forget I brought it up.” He stood up quickly and turned around, intent on heading back through the door and maybe venting to Donut, or Kimball, or that cute medic from Kimball’s ranks (she was a psychoanalyst, right?), or Dr. Grey, or hell, even Grif.

“W-wait!” Wash shouted out, admittedly a bit too loud and his metal-clad hand instinctively shot up to grab onto Tucker’s bare, right wrist.Tucker’s movements ceased and he looked back at the other, before he slowly sat back down.

“You really want to see my face that badly..?” He asked after a few beats of silence. When he saw Tucker nod, a slow sigh escaped his own lips.

“Dude, I want to see it more than fucking anything.” The other said, his bronze eyes sparkling in excitement and his face now void of his previous doubt. Wash realized then that the two of them sat facing one another and that he was still holding onto Tucker’s arm.

“Well, here goes…” He trailed off, releasing Tucker’s arm from his grip and reaching both of his hands up to the underside of his helmet. He paused for a moment to collect himself, before undoing the safety clasps and emergency clasps that attached his helmet to his under armour suit. As his helm began to lift up over his face, Wash squeezed his eyes shut and felt the warmth of blood rushing to his cheeks and ears in embarrassment. He heard Tucker gasp.

“Dude..” Tucker spoke, breathlessly. He just stared at Wash, observing very little feature as best he could. He was in awe of what he was seeing before him.

Wash had contorted his face to shut his eyes and not see the look on Tucker’s face, but it had made it easier for the latter to appreciate some of the former’s features. He noticed the way his little, round nose crinkled, how light brown freckles spread across his whole face and down his neck, and how those very freckles were much more noticeable when his cheeks lit up from blushing. He noticed how hilarious Wash’s dumb, cute, bushy eyebrows looked furrowed like that, how wonderful his small, chapped lips looked even when contorted into a nervous frown. He noticed how obvious it was that Wash normally bit his lip when he was nervous, but we was currently trying to restrain the urge. He noticed how dumb Wash’s once platinum hair looked, now sandy blonde with dark brown roots and the hair from his undercut the same dark, dark shade…

Tucker shook himself out of it and quickly sucked in a breath he didn’t know he desperately needed.

“Wash, this is gonna sound totally weird but,” He began, still marveling at the other. Wash slowly opened his eyes to reveal light, bluish-grey irises and Tucker felt his heart flutter. Holy shit; Wash was hot, what the fuck

“What is it?” Tucker assumed that by the teasing tone in the other’s voice, as well as the confident smirk that now graced his faced, that Wash realized he was staring at him. However, seeing Wash smirk like that and the dimples in his cheeks was fucking worth it.

“Now, I know you might think of me as just a lady’s man, but if there was ever a time for me to make you believe otherwise, it’d be right now.” Tucker said, trying to sound serious, but failing miserably. He now looked at Wash, a smirk now playing at his own lips. “‘cause, bow chicka bow wow!”

Wash’s confidence seemed to fade then, his smirk faltering and his cheek become a darker shade of red. That had only made Tucker’s smirk (and ego) grow larger. If Wash was gonna look like that when he got embarrassed, Tucker wouldn’t let him wear his helmet ever again.

“Tucker, you aren’t serious, are you?” He asked nervously. Tucker’s smirk only grew wider and Wash’s face only got redder.

“You tell me.” Tucker said, just staring into Wash’s eyes, his own half-lidded.

It was soon after that he realized that both he and Wash had been slowly leaning in towards one another. Realizing this closeness, it was Tucker’s turn to lose his confidence. He sound feel Wash’s breath against his face and he noticed him setting his helmet down on the ground next to him.

Before either of the two had known what was happening, their lips were on each other’s and Tucker felt Wash’s arms slip around his waist, gripping onto Tucker’s midsection and pulling him ever so slightly closer. Both of their eyes had shut and Tucker found his own hands moving to their own accord, one hand in the mop of brown and blonde hair on Wash’s head and the other hand lightly caressing Wash’s cheek.

Tucker, as a surprise to himself, was the first to pull back for air. Both of their foreheads touching lightly and both silently staring into each other’s eyes. Tucker saw how the freelancer’s eyes looked; passionate, peaceful, and so oddly sweet it made Tucker never want the moment to end. He wanted to see Wash look like that, especially at him, every second of the day.

For a long time, the two just sat there, enjoying the silence, intimacy, and closeness that was so rare during these times. It was blissful. However, as they sat, tangled in one anothers limbs and entranced by each other’s presence, the sun quickly set and the skies grew dark. Chorus’ small moon offered little light and visible stars were few in number, but Armonia looked breathtaking at night. There was an odd sense of loneliness that came off of the capital, but it only made the bright city lights all the more beautiful to behold.

It had been an hour before either party had spoken. Tucker decide to pipe up.

“Hey, Wash..?” He began, hesitantly. “Not to kill the mood, but..” He trailed off and Wash shifted to look down at him. “The corners of your armour have been stabbing me in the gut for the past 10 minutes now and I think Grey would kill you if my stitches opened up again.”

“Oh, shit, sorry!” Wash said, his voice higher than usual, and quickly shifted away from Tucker, earning him a frown. The ex-freelancer just looked more confused. “What?”

“Dude, I was hinting at ‘take your armour off’, not ‘stop hugging me’. Fuck, dude.” He said with a childish pout on his face.

“Tucker, I am not stripping down to my underwear on the rooftop of a building we work at.” Wash deadpanned. Tucker only gained a smirk and his eyebrows quirked upward and the other slowly found himself donning a matching smirk. “But maybe we could head somewhere else?~”

“Fuck yeah, dude!” The younger of the two lit up at this. Wash only laughed as a beaming Tucker stood up and all but dragged the elder to the steps.

Tucker had never seen Wash out of his armour before, but he’d be damned if he let the blonde spend his whole life in armour after this and for some reason, Wash felt oddly okay with that.


End file.
